


To Have and To Hold

by Grinner_H



Series: 15 a Piece Prompt Challenge [17]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/pseuds/Grinner_H
Summary: Four drabbles.





	1. To Take

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RubyFiamma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyFiamma/gifts).



> For Prompt #101 - _Insanity_ (selected by **[Ash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashida)** from **[200 Writing Challenge](http://insane-1.deviantart.com/art/200-Writing-Challenge-68163506)** ).

It takes a lot. Moments that feel like hours that feel like fucking _lifetimes,_ but Yamamoto is a patient man, he can wait, he can enjoy this.

He can enjoy the taste, the scent, the sensation and sight and sound of Gokudera who's on his bed, beneath him, _every-fucking-where_ in this room.

And this is what it takes.

Teeth and tongue and thrusts that's so goddamn _slow,_ Yamamoto hopes they're driving Gokudera to madness. 

(He'd lost his sanity and his soul a long time ago, back when they were just fourteen and stupid and playing at saving the world. Yamamoto never told Gokudera he _was_ \- still fucking _is_ \- his world.)

And _Gokudera._

He's this beautiful, pliant, irreverent thing wrapping himself - arms and legs and too much _need_ \- around Yamamoto, and looking like he fucking _resents_ himself for it. 

It takes a fuckton of restraint, but Yamamoto slows the motion of his hips; waiting, wanting, seeking till he finally - _finally_ \- feels, sees, _hears_ it. 

Gokudera's excruciatingly tight clench around him. The burn of his fascinating, enthralling eyes - ignited with desperation warring pride. The frustrated, _humiliated_ plea through stubbornly clenched teeth. _"Please."_

And Yamamoto smirks, withdraws, withholds; daring commanding wanting _begging_ Gokudera to say it again.


	2. To Heal

It _burns,_ freezing cold and white-hot against his naked skin.

Fei Long vividly feels it, can't get enough of it.

The slow crawl of Asami's gun from his nape to the point between his shoulder blades. The shift of his hair against the sweat-slick skin of his back.

He feels its smooth glide over the bump of each vertebra, the erotic, exotic ride down to the base of his spine, the scorching-gelid-fluid of Asami's touch.

And when the barrel of the gun slides between the cleft of his ass and _grinds,_ Fei Long feels the broken pieces of his heart reconstruct, and the edges of his mind fall apart.


	3. To Yield

Squalo is like a dog - snarling, biting, scratching in ways that don't make it easy for Xanxus to pin him down and just _take._

He's this rabid, untamed thing; growling, howling, snapping at heels, all teeth and claws and bad fucking temper.

Until Xanxus's rough fist finds its death grip in his hair, pulls on it like a leash, reminds him of who's the pet and who is his master.

Then Squalo rolls on his back, spreads his legs, succumbs.


	4. To Give

He's clothed in grime and someone else's blood. His breath is tobacco and whiskey and unadulterated _want._

It's disgusting, and Fei Long can't resist. 

Not when Yoh's pressed against him like this, chest to chest, breath to breath, quickened pulses and fingers bruising skin.

Yoh is the dirty whispered words against Fei Long's ear, the crude hand that's darting into the waistband of his pants, the vulgar fingers caressing his balls, fisting his cock.

Yoh reeks of selfishness and urgency, of desire and death. 

And when he pushes Fei Long onto the floor, fucks him in the dirt amid broken bodies and empty shells, Fei Long feels himself fall like a corpse into filth.


End file.
